Monday, November 30, 2009

Dejected Bread Given Garlic Cure

How large is YOUR ass after Thanksgiving? This year was somewhat manageable for me, since I didn't host. A big shout out to Jim and Cristin for having me and The Republican over with Miss Thang and Mr. Ink.

I absolutely love boulé and sourdough bread, the big crusty loaves you can get from Whole Paycheck or Iggy's or where have you. Because I can never eat them by myself before they get crustified and dry, I usually save them for Houseguests. This weekend such a loaf found its way to my abode for the making of Leftover Turkey Sammiches (toasted sourdough, smashed fresh avocado, homemade honey mustard, Ink's leftover turkey, and super sharp cheddar...drool).

Turkey's gone. Bread is in sad shape. I've got a pot of veggie-white bean soup that I need to eat but damn it, its boring, even though I included radishes in it. Solution: Supah Dupah Garlic Croutons. I've never made croutons before and they're just coming out of the oven in batches now (of course I am plucking them out individually as they brown to perfection-- my pan was crowded and the bread not perfectly sized. Normally I HATE the nasty, dried out boogers that people inexplicably buy at the store and prefer to have good ones from real restaurants (Travato's in Omaha, NE, comes to mind--they used to cube and deep fat fry their leftover Italian bread. Awesome). The Tindallator's mother also fries them on the stovetop in BUTTER but as you know, baking is easier for me at the moment.

My method:
Cut bread into cubes, crush 4-6 cloves of garlic into about 1/4 cup of olive oil. Add a nice big fat pinch of salt, some Cubeb pepper, and crushed red pepper.

Transfer bread to large bowl, drizzle garlic-oil mixtures over bread, and stir with hands (this is not a first-date friendly recipe). Spread on pan, bake @ 400 - 425, and remove croutons with tongs as they finish.



I'm going to use these babies on the soup I have, then the rest on a salad this weekend.

Let's eat one...


I KNEW THERE WAS A REASON I DID THIS. HELL YEAH.

Except I am not allowed to make out with anyone for at least 24 hours.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

We Are Experiencing Technical Difficulties

Or, in other words, an entry that actually addresses some limitations, and how I’ve had to work around them, and what I plan to do to further improve the functionality of the Hobbit Hole Kitchen. I haven’t done this much yet other that to bitch about the Taco Debacle.

Cooking: Outfitted with an Aroma two-burner electric hotplate and a Breville convection oven, I’ve managed to do pretty well—it IS just me, most of the time. The area most affected by my lack of a “real” stove is the hotplate sitch. A lot of my cooking has traditionally involved a lot of searing and sautéing at very high temps, as well as deglazing and boiling large amounts of liquid. The large burner on the Aroma, measuring about 7” in diameter, takes about 20 minutes to boil water for pasta (and you know me, I ain’t boiling 2 measly liters, I’m going to boil 6 to 8 liters with lots of sea salt). Keeping my large All-Clad chef’s pan as hot as it needs to —just doesn’t happen. This really isn’t a huge problem, since I’m no longer searing two 10 ounce rib eyes at a time. However, it’s pretty much impossible to start water boiling, and also start something else, such as a sauté, or anything that needs to be cooked at the same time.

Insert Giant Kitchen Time Suck.

I did a little research on that interweb thingie and came across induction burners. I’m drooling over this one. I am admittedly very limited when it comes to comprehending the physics of the heat transfer involved in induction heating, but I do know that it
a) works real darn fast (faster than gas)
b) is cooler and much more energy efficient than electric or gas and
c) doesn’t work with crapola pots and pans (i.e, pans made with cheaper alloys...thankfully most of my pans are high quality enough to pass the test, with the exception of my two saucepans, which I need to replace anyway)

I also “need” a smaller All-Clad saute pan. So, for in order for the $80 investment of a new induction burner to be “worth it”, I’ll also have to buy at least one saucepan and one saute pan. I’m really looking at a total cost upwards of $250-300.

Reheating

1. I don't have a microwave.
2. I cook in regular-size batches and freeze portions of soup, pasta sauce, and stews.
3. I eat leftovers religiously.

And HOW do I deal with reheating / eating leftovers?

Prolly the best decision I made was to invest in a slew of Pyrex glass containers with plastic lids. Initially I switched from plastic leftover Gladware containers (that would be reheated) to glass so that I wouldn't have toxic-god-knows-what-side-effect-this-could-have-on-my-chances-of-rectal-cancer side effects (and those of you still microwaving in plastic, shame on you).

These little guys allow me to freeze, thaw, and reheat. Badda-bing. The Breville has an awesome reheat setting. Home from gym, pop in a portion of veggie lasagna, shower, and dinner is done. Yeah, it takes longer. But if I plan, I'm cool. Microwaving food makes it taste like ass, anyway, in my opinion.

So all of this to say... I'm basically just going what our grandmothers did for cooking. Planning, reheating without microwaves, and planning a bit. It really isn't that hard.

I'll letcha all know when I finally join the Induction Club.

OK kids, that's all for now. I just made some homemade black refried beans, finished with melted butter. I promise somethin' more fun later. Oh, and I was able to find the most bomb-ass lard-filled homemade tortillas in Custer, SD. Who knew.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Gringaladas

My immune system is winning. Seven hours ago I had a fever, aches, headache, and that horrible feeling of a lurking imminent snot -fest in my sinuses. Now, at two-thirty in the morning, I feel like a million dollahs. OK, maybe 500K. But I think that my Monthly Trip To Maine will be ensuing, full steam ahead!

So nothing spectacular for this post: just the process of Gringa-ladas, the enchilada recipe I've been developing over the last year and half or so. I've got another post to write that actually focuses on small cooking and what I've had to do to change my kitchen habits, but that's not as much fun right now. Next time.

Sauce makes a dish, of that we are all certain. This dish has stretched out into nearly five hours from start to finish, but is starting to be worth it (ask The Pole, Miss Thang, or Mr. Bacon). This time I made the sauce the night before (smart girl) so that my guests wouldn't be forced to chew their hands in hunger-induced desperation.

Step one: Buy a whole chicken and about 3 bone-in chicken thighs, preferably from Mayflower Poultry, though a Kosher or organic one from Whole Paycheck will do. Hack chicken into 8 pieces, and remove skin from all parts, including the thighs. Trim visible fat. Feed cat scraps of raw chicken.

Dry chicken parts and proceed to rub in salt, white pepper, and ground cumin (preferably from Morocco or Israel, I've had only these varieties in the last year—SO spoiled). Now, you're going to let that chicken warm up on the counter. You'll want it to sit at room temperature for about a half hour to an hour. If anything I've learned, it's not to try and sear cold meat. Gross, you say, you'll get salmonella. I think not. That chicken is going to have the shit cooked out of it, I promise. You'll be fine. Plus, if you're avoiding nasty Perdue / Shaw's / Market Basket Antibiotic-Flavored chicken, your chance for the runs decreases considerably:




Meanwhile, prep aromatics: 2 diced yellow onions, half a bulb of garlic, minced, and in this case, reconstituted chipotle peppers, and cumin seed. Sometimes if I have fresh jalapeno I'll use that too. However, dried peppers are key.



Open Rogue Dead Guy Ale and clean up chicken-dissecting cutting board and knives. Line up the 4-7 spices you feel like using for sauce.




Open a can of 365 brand crushed tomatoes, and get some chix stock simmering on hotplate.

Step two: Bring about 4 TBL canola or corn oil to a purdy shimmering sheen and begin to sear chicken in batches in pot. Make sure that chicken is getting really dark. As pieces finish, put in warm oven in dish to catch juices, etc. This step will ensure that your studio apartment begins to smell like a very greasy taqueria. Olé!


When all chicken is seared, the bottom of your pan should resemble a wasteland of very dark chicken scraps and oil. This is OK, you vant dis, very very much:


Dump in the onions and cumin seed ONLY at this point. The steam and liquid of the fresh onion will soften the burned bits. Scrape up the bits with a flat-head wooden spoon, stirring the onions often; the cumin seeds will being to soften.

After a few minutes, add the chipotle pepper and the garlic and let go for a few more, stirring a few times. At this point, I add more chile powder(s) and cumin. I really can't tell you how much or what kind--though I do know that it's more than you'd think it is. Stir some more. Add the chicken and accumulated juices next, and stir well.


After another minute or three, add tomatoes, stock, and a large pinch of sugar. What you've got now are 11 pieces of bone-in chicken in a cozy bath of spices, aromatic, tomatoes, and stock. Bring this to a boil, then cover and simmer, covered, for, oh... about two hours. Yup, two hours. Clean up kitchen and do some laundry.

Step 3: When you reach in to pick up a piece of chicken with tongs and it is literally falling off the bone, you've hit it. Remove the chicken to a large plate and keep sauce on simmer, covered. When you can handle the chicken without burning yourself and swearing, pull off the bone and shred using your fingers or two forks. Toss the bones into a pie plate and throw them into a 425 oven. Yup, you're going to roast those fuckers. It wasn't good enough that they took a bath, they are going to make a little extra sauce for us. After they're dark, throw them in a pot with some water and bring to a boil for about a half hour. Strain this and add back to the sauce. Then, use immersion blender to puree sauce:
This will break down all the little chicken shreds into the sauce, a very good thing.



At this point, either cool sauce and refrigerate with chicken and pass out in Cumin-Scented bed, or proceed to

Step 4: A word about queso. I stopped using Monterey Jack or "Mexican" blends of cheese a while ago, as they're super greasy, salty, and all but hide the hard work I've done on the sauce. I now use a queso fresco and some other cheese, whatever happens to look good at Market Basket that day. This time I used:




Dice a WHITE onion very fine and open some corn tortillas. Some assembly required:

I used to fry the tortillas in hot oil and roll each enchilada. No more, amigo. I found that frying them just makes for an uber-greasy dish, and that everything falls apart when baked, so that the rolling is a waste of my time. Here I trade presentation for speed. Yeah, I know. That's why they are called GRINGladas. You're going to make a sort of pseudo-Mexican lasagna: spoon sauce into bottom of casserole, place on layer of tortillas, overlapping, then some chicken, onion, and cheese, and more sauce. Repeat until that casserole is full and happy. Top with cilantro and bake, uncovered, at 350 for about 45 minutes.



Serve with various fun things your guests can sprinkle on top: diced jalapeno, sliced scallions, lime wedges, chopped cilantro, and, most fun: authentic crema (you'll never use sour cream again. oh my. it's lovely. just ask R.).

So there you have it. Now back to bed for me.